The snowy white owl hooted quietly down the corridor. "Ssh! Be just a little bit more quiet, Hedwig." The owl nipped at her owner's finger. Harry sighed. He felt sorry for Hedwig, being all cooped up in the Hogwarts owelry. It was Christmas Eve, and the seventh and final one Harry Potter would spend at Hogwarts. After Hogwarts, Harry would then go into training to become an Auror, which could take years. But, he smiled to himself; he would be away from the Dursleys almost for good.

Harry looked out the vast open window. Snow covered the Hogwarts grounds, while many first years and some second years played around cheerfully. Harry, with his owl at his arm, decided to take a walk outside and enjoy the winter spirit.

"Oy, Harry!" Harry turned around to see Ron and Hermione making their way across the snow covered ground. Ron and Hermione had been his sidekicks since day one. Even when they discovered they were in love with each other, they stayed loyal to Harry. Harry grinned. "Hey there. Enjoying the Christmas break?" Ron and Hermione were holding hands. "Well, actually," Hermione said, "I was just about to give Ron a lesson in ice skating over at the lake. Care to join?" He decided he would leave the couply fun to them. "Nah, you go ahead and have fun." They looked a bit slighted. "Well, all right. Merry Christmas!" And with that they bounded off. Harry pulled his attention to the playful first and second years. He noticed a group of about five kids bewitching snowballs to fly at the others, and saw a disgruntled second year trying to construct a snowman with his wand. It seemed that no charm he could say would have an effect on the lifeless mound of snow. Harry lightly chuckled, when he heard his owl coo in his ear. "C'mon Hedwig. I bet you're just dying to fly around for a bit." And Harry headed off to a more obscure location.

Harry took his beloved owl past the whomping willow, past the lake, where he caught a glimpse of Ron sitting flat on his ass and Hermione giggling, and came to a piece of land that wasn't often visited, because it was just a normal patch of land and quite far from the castle. "Ah right, Hedwig." Harry gave his arm a boost and Hedwig flapped her wings, pulling her high into the sky. Harry pulled out the extra cloak he brought along, laid it out on the ground, and sat on it. He began to think. He was brought back not to the times of great peril, or when he rescued the wizarding world from fates worse than Avada Kedavra, but of the good times, with his friends, with Hagrid, and even with enemies. He laughed silently while thinking of his silly affair with Cho Chang. He remembered how he felt around her, and silently laughed at himself. The last time he saw her, he had actually found her quite repulsive. Then He crossed Harry's mind. Him. He wanted to laugh at himself for the silly exchange of insults they had shared, then scream at himself for saying those mean words, and hurting him.

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had once been school rivals, him being from Slytherin, and Harry being from Gryffindor, but the both of them found that they had simply grown up. As they aged, they found they had always acted rather childish and, seeing as they weren't children anymore, they decided to grow up a little bit mentally. Harry smiled to himself as he remembered his youth. He had only been 11. And Draco would do anything to stop the famous Harry Potter in his tracks. Then they were 12. And they realized that if they couldn't stop each other, they would at least get the teachers to. So, they snitched like mad that year, and Harry even believed that it was little Draco who had opened the infamous Chamber of Secrets. Then thirteen, where Draco had tried to foil Harry's plans and be the hero himself, for once. Then fourteen, the year Harry was chosen as the fourth wizard in the Triwizard tournament. This was when the rivalry ever so slightly began to weaken. And fifteen. The rivalry started to crumble that year. Harry jailed Lucius Malfoy, and Draco finally began to accept he wasn't as brilliant as the thousand-watt Harry Potter. At sixteen, though, the rivalry's existence was no more. The two boys didn't have much conversation, and the things they did say were civil and impersonal. Then this year. Harry and Draco both hadn't expected to grow to each other, but they had. It was a smile here, a "hello" there. But, things were changing between the two of them. And, of course, they had changed as a person too. Harry valued his time in solitude as time to think, and time to mentally illustrate. He adored Ron and Hermione, but it seemed that they were still stuck in fifth year, while Harry quietly outgrew them. He hated to admit it, but it was positive he had outgrown them a few years back. They were no longer the trio they once were. And that went for Draco's "trio," too. Crabbe and Goyle went on being lazy and ignorant, but Draco shed his overt, heartless image. The other Slytherins who once admired him for his cunning ideas and his power had now moved on to other things. Draco used his time to focus on things like Quidditch and homework instead of plotting ways to make Harry's life miserable.

A particularly cold winter breeze resurrected Harry from his thoughts. "Wow, Hedwig. It sure is cool enough for Christmas." He pulled his maroon and gold house scarf around his neck, but it only offered minimum protection from the breezy air. He was about to flag down Hedwig and get back to the common room when he heard a voice drawl loudly. "It's cold out here, Potter. Take this." And he saw a green and whit scarf magically drape over his shoulders. He whisked around to see Draco, hands in pockets, strolling over to him. "Hello, Malfoy," Harry said, turning back around. Draco stood over him. "Mind if I take a seat?" Harry scooted over. Draco gladly sat down on the cloak. "Hello, Harry," he said in his natural drawl, "It's just…you looked….I don't know….cold." Harry grinned. "Well, I was pretty chilly. It is winter, after all. I'm just letting my owl get some wind in her wings." Draco nodded, "I thought I'd just take a stroll. I was supposed to spend holidays at home, but my father….well; he's off to more risky meddling. And, well, my mum's not in a fit mood to see me. She's still shaken up about having to deal with my father's business while he was…" Draco cleared his throat, "away…. So anyways I guess I'm here for holiday. It seems a bit drab though, I mean, without all the students." Harry looked out into the sky. "Hogwarts is the place I consider home. It sure beats Christmas with the Dursleys."

"Who are they?"

"They're my muggle family that I lived with before I came to Hogwarts. And they're absolutely dreadful."

"Muggle family? On which side?"

"Mom's. My grandparents were both muggles." Draco raised an eyebrow slightly. He couldn't help but frown. His family was made of pureblood wizards, and had been notoriously against any half-blooded witches or wizards. Harry seemed to read Draco's thoughts. "Oh, get off it, Malfoy. Almost every witch or wizard these days has some muggle blood in them." Draco sighed. "I know. I almost wish I had a different family, you know? Like a father that wasn't so cruel and so powerful. And maybe a mum who was more…oh I don't know…motherly. You know, Potter, you aren't that bad to talk to." And then Harry saw him smile. It was a genuine smile, not cheeky or false. "Thanks," Harry said. Then Draco chuckled. "You know, you don't exactly wear a scarf like that." And Draco leaned in to Harry, pulling the Slytherin's scarf around his neck over Harry's. "There." Harry felt warmer already. "Thanks, Malfoy." They caught each other in a fleeting glance. Draco was still leaning in to Harry, and Harry had turned his face at an angle to meet Draco's.

Harry felt his heartbeat quicken. He looked into Draco's eyes. He once saw loathing and deceit, but now all he saw was vulnerability. He never thought he would see Draco as vulnerable. Meanwhile, a thousand thoughts were rushing through Draco's mind. He didn't know whether to hastily pull away or let the moment linger. He also felt certain desires. He felt certain passions awaken that had, until this moment, been placid and untouched. He felt like leaping, crying, and kissing all at the same time. Of course, he had always liked girls. But all of a sudden he liked Harry. It felt right, so it had to be right. Draco leaned in, looking unsure. He didn't know whether Harry would return his feelings or literally sew his arms together. The two boys looked at each other, fascinated by each other's gaze. Harry tried to speak, but he had somehow lost his voice. So, to tell Draco how he felt, he put his hand up to Draco's face and let it lightly brush his cheek. Draco leaned in to Harry's hand, showing he accepted the affection. Harry let his thumb caress Draco's jaw line while he admired his face. Draco's once fitting slick hair now looked inappropriate on him, and made him seem senile, while his sneer had been replaced by a slight quiver. Harry didn't want Draco to be scared. This time, it was Draco who seemed to read Harry's thoughts. "It's ok," he said reassuringly, "I'm just cold."

Harry leaned in at the exact same time Draco did. It's all or nothing, Harry thought, while Draco said to himself here goes. Their lips pressed together. Harry breathed in Draco's scent, and tasted Draco's lips. Draco let his tongue snake out to meet Harry's, who gladly let his tongue return the favor. Even though the two were 17, and still slimy little kids, the kiss was something higher, something more powerful. There wasn't any hormonal moaning or "Oh Baby's." It was pure silence. They could almost hear each other's heartbeat. They weren't rough, either. Passionate, but not rough. It was soft and loving, though it still sent shivers down their spines. The let the kiss linger in their mouths, and kept the kiss slow and steady. Finally, the two forced themselves to pull away. Draco held Harry's face in his hands. He fixed Harry's glasses, and tousled his hair. "What does this….I don't know…mean?" Harry asked softly. Draco smiled. "Potter, don't try to answer that. It's just how everything feels. It feels…good…" And Harry returned the smile. Draco was right. They didn't have to worry about what this was, just how it felt. All of a sudden he heard Hedwig's hoot, signaling that she was tired. The two looked regrettably up at the sky. Neither wanted to leave. They wanted to stay there, drowning in the moment, forever. But it wasn't so. "Well, Malfoy, I guess I'll—" But Draco caught him short with a light peck. "Harry," he said coarsely, "Harry isn't it?" Harry was surprised. He wasn't used to Draco addressing him by his first name. But, then he knew why. Draco looked at Harry in earnest. He wanted to love Harry. And, more importantly, he wanted Harry to love him. "Draco," he said, and they ensued in another soft kiss.

Hedwig hooted impatiently, breaking off their moment. Draco and Harry laughed. "Bye, Draco." Draco started off toward the castle grounds, and Harry made for the owelry. "Merry Christmas, Harry," Draco called over his shoulder. The boys shared a smile, and Harry pulled his scarf tighter around him. The scarf. "Draco! Your scarf! It's still around my neck." Draco looked adoringly at Harry. "You keep it, its snowing again." And so off they went.

It had indeed started snowing again. But Harry didn't mind the slight chill as much. In fact, Harry still had his thoughts on Draco. He didn't quite know if one kiss could make Harry fall in love, but if it could, he had. The kiss had been perfect. Silent, soft and slow. Hedwig hooted happily in his ear and he pulled the green and white scarf to his face. It still smelled like Draco, a mix of peppermint, wormwood, and vanilla. He breathed in the smell once again. As they came upon the owelry, he received weird looks from some Slytherin third years, as he, a famous Gryffindor, wore their house scarf. But he didn't care anymore. All he cared about was Draco.

Harry almost went back up to the common room, when he decided he hadn't had his fill of winter just yet. He stepped back outside into the snowy castle courtyard. He thought again about the kiss shared with Draco. Silent and soft and slow. It was almost like snowfall. Harry saw a snowflake flutter down to his robes, where it somberly melted into the fibers. Silent and soft and slow.

Out of the bosom of the air Out of the cloud folds of her garment shaken Over the woodlands brown and bare Over the harvest fields forsaken

Silent and soft and slow Silent and soft and slow Descends the snow Descends the snow